


Yes, Daddy

by Cyberrat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allusions to Child Abuse, Alternate Universe, Daddy Kink, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Scars, Sheriff is an escort, allusions to rape, mild dirty talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 08:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2102871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberrat/pseuds/Cyberrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parrish has a hard time accepting what he needs - and asking the right person for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes, Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> My second and last entry for the Solicited Love Fest. Hope you enjoy.

Jordan was already jittery when he opened the door upon the bell ringing, his “Hi…” sounding  strangled and unhappy even to his own ears. He pressed his lips into a tight line, Adam’s apple bobbing frantically as he swallowed again and again in hopes he wouldn’t just vomit in front of the man’s feet and embarrass himself even further.

John looked magnificent in jeans and a ridiculously soft looking sweater, arms hanging loosely at his sides as he let his gaze wander over his client, dark blond eyebrows twitching slightly before his brow smoothed out again.

It probably was laughingly obvious that Parrish was just one harsh word away from a nervous breakdown, and that… really didn’t make it any better. He felt miserable and inadequate and like excusing himself and closing the door right in the escort’s face. Maybe something in that line of thought had shown on his face - or his arm, with the hand still curled clammy and sweaty around the door handle, had twitched - but suddenly John’s face softened, his hands rising to show him their callused but empty palms.

“I can leave again,” he said softly, ducking his head a little to catch Jordan’s gaze that had quickly darted down, staring blankly at the man’s chest. “Or I can stay and we cuddle a little? Jordan? Would you like that?”

His belly clenched so hard, the air got pressed out of him with a soft, pained sound. He closed his eyes tightly, trying not to feel like trash as he nodded shakily.

“Yes, Daddy,” he whispered and almost sobbed in elation as John stepped carefully over the threshold, gently pulling the door out of the Deputy’s grasp and closing it with a soft snick behind him.

“Good boy. Don’t be afraid, baby. Everything is gonna be alright.”

And the thing was, Jordan wanted to  believe the broad drawl and the large hands that gently curled around his biceps in order to steer him towards the living room. It only was so hard - always so hard to do that first step.

It was the sixth time that John was in Parrish’s little house, and he moved with a familiarity that made something ache in Jordan’s chest. It was like John was  living here, his movements sure and slow as he sat down on the couch and pulled Parrish against his side, his large hand cupping the back of his head as he pulled him down, tucking the cool, sweaty face against his throat.

Jordan was shivering and hating himself for it, fingers curled deep in the sweater that was just as soft as it looked, trying to get his bearings back together.

“Shhh,” John soothed, large hand sliding down across his curved back and fingers slipping beneath the shirt. Which was… which was kind of wonderful. That John didn’t ask for permission at every step anymore. That he just  took.

That first time had been horrible - John almost ready to leave as he’d seen how hard of a time it was for Jordan to actually accept this whole encounter. He’d have to actually  beg him not to go, feeling sick to his stomach at the same time because he didn’t want to pull someone like John down to his level.

Which was kind of hilarious, given John’s profession, but… but.

But Jordan had been  smitten with him the first time he’d seen his picture on that website. He’d felt like his world had tilted on its axis at how perfect those broad shoulders and large hands were. How perfect that worn, kind face had been, practically radiating comfort even from a stupid picture. 

Their subsequent phone call and meeting had only cemented what Jordan had felt so acutely that night: that this man was someone that could make him feel comforted and protected with such ease that it was laughable.

John brought him back from his thoughts with a deep, guttural sigh accompanied by him stretching his legs and sinking a little deeper into the cushions of the couch.

“Everything all right, Daddy?” Parrish whispered, feeling a little more secure in his skin now that he felt the rough fingers trace idle patterns on his back. He raised his head slowly, peeking into John’s face and biting the tip of his tongue at the easy relaxation he found there.

“Yeah, baby boy. It’s just been a rough day for Daddy, but you make it so much better.” He cracked one eye open, grinning with one side of his mouth at the hitch in Parrish’s breath, free hand rising to curl around his neck and pull him closer.

“And you’re such a good boy, you’re going to make it even better, won’t you?”

It was prickly where the small hairs on his body stood up in response to the deep, intimate drawl against his lips, and he felt silly at how eagerly he slipped onto the older man’s lap. His voice wavered but was sincere as he whispered, “Yes, Daddy.”

He licked his lips, mouth falling open easy and inviting, little whines slipping out of his throat at the warm breath fanning out against his face. The hand on his neck was still holding him, steady and grounding, restricting in a way that made his cock heavy, leaking where it was trapped along his thigh.

John’s free hand travelled down from beneath the shirt, turning to slip fingers into the back of Jordan’s pants. His eyes fluttered closed when he saw the soft wrinkles in the corners of John’s eyes appear with his slow smile, felt the appreciative stroke of fingers along the lace of his pink panties.

“Wanna be so good for you, Daddy,” Parrish whined. 

John’s answering “You’re  always good for me, baby boy,” was almost more pleasurable than the slow, burning kiss he pressed into Jordan’s mouth.

This part as well had become easier since that first time. John was slow and gentle in maneuvering them around until Parrish was spread below him on the couch, hands steady and as tactile as possible as they started stripping the boy.

He breathed hot against Parrish’s face, fingers warm as they stroked along quivering flanks and waited until Jordan stopped squirming - stopped subtly fighting what was happening.

“Daddy?!” Parrish gasped when John hooked his fingers below the waistband of the Deputy’s pants and pulled.

“‘S all right, baby. You still feeling good? Jordan, are you still with me?” His eyes were a faded, powdery blue, attentive and honest as he leaned back and watched the form of the Deputy stretched out half-naked below him.

He dragged a slow hand down the center of the smooth chest and the toned abs, drawing small circles with his thumb around the shallow bellybutton.

“Let me turn around,” Parrish rasped, feeling a hot sizzle of affection deep in his stomach when John smiled and nodded, obligingly helping the uncoordinated limbs of the man until he was settled on all fours. The older man draped himself across Jordan’s back and pressed a moist kiss against his shoulder blade.

“Feeling better now?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Parrish didn’t know whether it was strange or normal that he was so fixated on  this particular position; that he would feel less vulnerable with his ass in the air and his face in the cushions.

That first time, John had been pausing for almost too long when he’d seen Parrish’s back with the long, silvery scars along the flesh,  even though the Deputy had warned him.

He’d not gone into much detail in their discussion before that first play session but John didn’t seem dumb. He’d be able to put things together, especially when he’d pulled Jordan’s pants and frilly underwear down to expose the tight, high ass that had a visible round patch of scar tissue on one cheek that looked eerily like it’d been ripped in by teeth.

By now, John didn’t hesitate anymore. His large hands were sure and steady as they tickled along Parrish’s back, his voice soothing and low as he slipped down and mumbled  something  that Jordan had yet to decipher what it was, against the scar . 

There was no stubble when he gently rubbed his cheek against the Deputy’s lower back and this, more than anything else, made Parrish finally moan low and uninhibited, body going lax and tension flowing out of him.

“There. That’s my baby boy,” John cooed, fingers curling around the soft, naked skin of Jordan’s balls, thumb slowly tracing along the seam. “You finally with me, Jordan?”

“Yes, Daddy,” he sighed deliriously into the cushion, pressing his ass eagerly up to feel more of the smooth skin. It was obvious that John had taken meticulous care to shave before he’d come. 

Jordan had to hide his face against his stacked arms, breath hitching with the humiliation of feeling tears prick the back of his eyelids, whole body tingling with the phantom sensation of long-gone stubble scraping his skin red and raw.

It wasn’t until a hand slapped his cheek gently and John’s firm voice penetrated the fog in his mind that he realized he’d gone under. He was shaking, fingers numb, and it took him quite a while to place the high whistling sound in the room as his own panicked breathing.

He was no longer face down, but sitting on the escort’s lap, curled into himself in a tight, uncomfortable ball. His jeans and panties were still around his thighs.

“What… what happened? How long have I been…”

“Don’t worry about it. Here.”

Parrish jerked when the cold rim of a glass was nudged against his lower lip, eyes rolling like a spooked colt to assess what was in there - water - until he opened his mouth and let John feed it to him.

It felt good, sliding down his burning throat and taking some of the sting.

“Feeling better?”

John wasn’t trying to look him in the face - thank god. Instead he had taken to placing his chin on the crown of Jordan’s head, large hand slowly stroking up and down his naked back.

He felt so deathly embarrassed, face hot in humiliation.

“Fuck… I… Sorry.” He clenched his eyes shut and scrubbed both hands over his face, trying to pull himself together although the edges of his vision were still fuzzy and his legs were tingling with the needles.

“Let me just… I pay you more. I’m sorry.”

He tried to wriggle his way out of the man’s grasp but John would have none of it, arms a steely band as he kept him anchored.

“I didn’t tell you you could leave, boy.” Parrish froze, nipples going tight and breath hitching in the back of his throat. John’s hand was a hot weight on his belly, fingers toying with the thin trail growing below Jordan’s bellybutton as he mouthed hot kisses along the sweaty throat.

His tongue was broad and soft, eager as it licked away the moisture and dipped into his clavicle before gnawing on the protruding bones he found there.

“Fuck,” Parrish breathed explosively, feeling the rest of the scare drop away like melting ice. He tipped his head slowly back, his hips fucking softly upwards into nothing, lips barely moving as he started chanting “Daddy” with increasing desperation.

“That’s more like it,” John rumbled, head dipping low to suck one of the perky nipples into his greedy mouth, large hand curling around the newly awakening cock of the Deputy.

“Such a beautiful, obedient boy,” he mused, gently biting just above the nipple he’s been suckling at, making Jordan jump in his arms, teeth gritting at the sensations flooding his system. “I bet you’d let Daddy suck you off, right?”

He stopped, bending his head just a little as he stared at the patient face of this stranger.

Of course, a little voice in the back of his mind told him, he’s an escort. A prostitute. Of  course  he’d be doing stuff like that. Sucking cock. Rimming. Bottoming even? But somehow John just… he just didn’t seem like a guy who’d do it. Full of quiet dignity and strength and…

“You’ll let me suck you off. Let me lick that beautiful, pink cock you have. Stuff my throat with it and have my little boy go wild on me, ain’t I right?” The corners of John’s eyes were crinkling again, the wry twist of his mouth showing Parrish that the older man knew exactly what had been going through his head.

“I want to hear you scream for me. And afterwards, I’m gonna get you to your bed and tuck you in all warm and tight.”

Parrish’s mouth fell open on a wet, soft gasp, his hips straining upwards in order to press his cock into the loose fist, both their gazes watching as the head emerged red and shiny. Juicy looking.

“C-Can I… Can I nurse on your cock, Daddy? Don’t wanna be alone…” And he knew. He  knew this wasn't in the contract. That John wouldn’t be able to fulfill it. But the sharp breath he blew out and the hoarse way he practically moaned, “Yessss…. yes, son” was enough to make him at least  believe him.

John urged him to kneel up and straddle his waist which was tricky enough because of his pants still wrapped around his thighs.

They managed it in the end without losing the delectable visual, John’s grip steadying and grounding on his hips, breath hot and comforting on his twitching cock just a second before he nuzzled against the base, breathing in his musky scent deep and obvious.

“D-Daddy,” Jordan ground out, fingers digging into the short hair of the escort, shoulders pulling up to his ears as he felt John’s tongue wet and hot, lapping against the tight, sensitive skin all around the base of his cock, mouth welcoming and soft as he sucked at the loose skin of Parrish’s naked balls.

It didn’t take him long until his upper body was curling forward around the man’s head, fingers forming into claws as he fought to keep his hips still and not fuck into the sinful suction around his drooling cock.

He was whimpering - soft “Daddy”s and needy “Please”s that seemed to make the other man only  smug , causing him to become slower in his efforts, the pull so strong it was almost hurting, tongue languidly scraping across the sensitive, swollen head whenever he pulled back enough to do so.

His hands were just as unconcerned with Parrish’s desperation - fingers spreading to trace the small scars along his back blindly, making Parrish feel hot and bothered at the thought that the man knew him well enough by this point to be able to do so.

“Daddy… oh fuck… yes, please,” he sobbed, high and needy, hips trembling and thighs shivering as one large hand gave his scarred butt cheek a grounding squeeze before the fingers slipped between, tickling his tight, needy hole.

The air stuttered out of him alongside his orgasm, not even thinking about warning the escort.

Afterwards - long afterwards… when he was able to think straight again - he would wonder whether the low, delirious groan he’d heard had been reality or just a figment of his overheated imagination.

As it was, John didn’t seem bothered at all, Adam’s apple bouncing beneath Jordan’s fumbling hand as he swallowed.

He  did get Parrish to his bed as well - mumbling soothing nonsense as he stripped him bare and spread him out on the mattress that still was a little too hard because Parrish seldom actually slept in it.

He even sat down on the corner, hand stroking softly across the younger man’s head, powdery blue eyes soft and sad as he watched Parrish nuzzle sleepily and finally happy into his palm.

“My poor boy,” he whispered, leaning low to press a kiss against the Deputy’s forehead. “You hadn’t deserved it.”

Parrish wanted to ask what he was talking about. He wanted to ask him to nurse on that beautiful, thick cock he hadn’t had a shot at this evening. He wanted to reach out and pull him in beside him. He wanted to snuggle up to this sturdy, strong body, pull it on top of himself and feel smothered by it in the best of ways.

He wanted to do a  lot , in fact - but didn’t because John’s voice was low and soothing and his eyes were so sad while he petted him.

“Lo’ you, Daddy,” Parrish mumbled, mouth pliant and needy as he caught John’s thumb and suckled a little.

.o.

John is still there the next morning - clothed and lying on top of the covers, eyes so tired but a smile on his mouth.

Jordan feels a little bad that his first thought upon waking was ‘I don’t have enough money to pay him for a whole night’, the feeling only intensifying when John leans down and presses a kiss against his forehead rumbling a low, “Good morning, baby boy.”

He’s secretly happy John never asks for the money.


End file.
